


Teenage Reddie Cuddle Fic

by celt_the_flame_3110



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kissing, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Talking, Teenage Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celt_the_flame_3110/pseuds/celt_the_flame_3110
Summary: Teenage Richie and Eddie cuddle on the couch at Richie's house.That's literally it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 119





	Teenage Reddie Cuddle Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the awful title. I don't have the energy to pick a better one. Also, would you look at that? I can write lmao.
> 
> So my friend Lock re-blogged [ this beautiful fanart ](https://ull-float-too.tumblr.com/post/630443161973637120/koryandr-reddie-cuddling-on-the-couch-for) and he said in the tags that he wanted a fic written about it. So... That's why it exists. 
> 
> You could probably just thank him for any future fics. Because while not every idea comes from him (hell, sometimes _I'm_ the one that gives _him_ the ideas,) he's basically my enabler at this point and there are many fics that I probably would've given up on, had he not been like, "That's a cool idea. I wanna read it!"
> 
> So, yeah, enjoy the fic! (I only proofread once and Google docs sucks. So, sorry about the errors!)

Richie was sitting on the couch in his parents’ living room—well… half-laying, half-sitting was a more accurate description. His back was against the arm rest and was leaning against a couple of throw pillows He had his headphones on and was listening to a mix he had made that reminded him of…

Richie glanced down when he felt Eddie—the boy who was currently lying on top of him —shifting in his sleep. His constant furrowed brow was smoothed out and his back was rising and falling calmly as he dozed. As much as Richie loved the feisty gremlin who was his boyfriend, he was also happy to see Eddie this relaxed. 

The two of them decided to cuddle on the couch after they finished their homework and ate dinner with Richie’s parents. They started at opposite ends of the couch, their legs intertwined. It didn’t take long for Eddie to decide that that wasn’t close enough and to crawl over until he was lying between Richie’s spread legs, resting his head on Richie’s chest.

Riche, delighted that Eddie was so cute, pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.

Eddie slowly blinked awake, giving Richie a sleepy smile. Richie slipped his headphones off and down to hang around his neck, pausing the tape player.

He then gave Eddie a small smile of his own, “Morning, sunshine. Did you have a good nap?”

Eddie let out a quiet laugh. “It’s afternoon, doofus.”

Richie’s small smile turned into a fleshed-out grin. “Well, ‘Afternoon, sunshine,’ doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”

Eddie kissed the underside of Richie’s jaw. “Any time I sleep with you, it’s good.”

Richie opened his mouth but Eddie spoke before he could. “No, no.  _ Stop. _ Don’t say a  _ fucking _ word, Tozier.”

Richie snorted. 

In response to that, he  _ meant _ to pull a different innuendo out of his ass.

Instead, what came out was, “Aw, Eds. I thought you wanted me to take  _ your _ last name when we tied the knot.”

Eddie’s normally large Bambi eyes got  _ even bigger. _ It would have been funny under any other circumstance. 

But right now, Richie’s heart started to race and his ears practically started ringing.

Before Richie could apologize or take it back, Eddie said, “I mean, if you really want mine  _ that _ badly, I’ll give it to you. I was kinda hoping you would be willing to share yours, though.”

Richie stared at Eddie blankly before the words  _ finally _ registered. Then all he could manage to get out was, “What?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Come on, Rich. I’m not  _ Bill. _ I said what I said.”

_ That _ got Richie to snap out of his stupor and practically wheeze with laughter. “Oh my  _ God, _ Eds. That’s  _ awful.” _

_ “What? _ He doesn’t stutter  _ anymore, _ so it’s fine.”

For a while, Richie didn’t think it was possible for him to stop laughing. He would stop—for about five seconds, and then he would start up again. Eddie was the  _ funniest _ motherfucker on the planet. Hell... he was funnier than  _ Richie, _ the guy who  _ actually _ wanted to be a comedian someday.

Eddie looked so proud of himself, as he always did when he got Richie to laugh this hard.

When Richie  _ finally _ calmed down, he gazed at Eddie sincerely. “Did you really mean it?”

This was a stark contrast to what happened before the two of them got together. 

When they were fourteen, Eddie accidentally blurted, ‘I love you,’ to Richie. When he realized what he said he quickly clapped a hand over his own mouth. Richie’s first thought process was,  _ Fuck… He figured out that I’m gay and is trying to fuck with me. _ So Richie asked, with angry tears forming in his eyes, ‘Did you really mean that or are you fucking with me? Because that’s  _ fucked up, _ Eddie.’

When Eddie finally assured him that he  _ did _ mean it and wasn’t pulling a  _ very _ cruel joke, Richie praised every single god that he could possibly think of.

The two of them celebrated their two-year anniversary last week

Eddie’s smile softened. “Yeah, Rich. Of course I do. I couldn’t possibly think of anyone else that I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”

Richie’s smile wobbled as his eyes started to sting.

“Aw, Rich,  _ no. _ Don’t cry.”

But Richie couldn’t hold back his tears. So he buried his face into the top of Eddie’s head, his nose nestled in the dark brown curls. Miraculously, Eddie didn’t whine about his hair getting wet. He just stroked Richie’s arm, waiting patiently for him to calm down.

Richie was so emotionally…  _ dead _ before he and Eddie got together. No, not dead, necessarily. The emotions were in there but that’s where they  _ stayed. _ After he grew out of the baby stage, Richie  _ never _ cried. Not when he fell off his bicycle and dislocated his shoulder when he was seven, not when Bowers beat him so hard he could barely walk the next day, not even when the clown taunted him about Eddie dying.

But the day the two of them got together, when Eddie assured Richie that he  _ did _ love him, that was enough to release the emotions that he always kept bottled-up. He now cried frequently and Eddie, being the amazing boyfriend he is, always waited patiently for him to let everything out.

When Richie was done, he lifted his head to see Eddie holding a tissue out to him. Even though he quit the placebos, Eddie decided to keep his fanny packs because they were "practical."

Richie took it. “Thanks.”

Before he could wipe his eyes, Eddie took the glasses off of Richie’s face. Richie thought nothing of it at first, he just assumed Eddie didn’t want Richie to accidentally get snot and tears on the lenses. So he wiped his eyes and face dry, blowing his nose and discarding the tissue in the nearby garbage can (the garbage can that Eddie  _ insisted _ that Richie put by the couch so he wouldn’t leave empty soda cans or chip bags on the coffee table.)

When Richie looked back at Eddie, he was cleaning the glasses with the hem of his shirt. Even though Richie was blinder than a bat with cataracts without his glasses, Eddie was still close enough that Richie could see his disgusted expression clearly.

“Why the  _ fuck _ don’t you ever clean these things?” Eddie murmured, still polishing away at the lenses.

Richie shrugged. “I don’t usually notice that they’re dirty. Don’t you usually have a cloth in your fanny pack that you use to clean those?”

“Couldn’t find it when I grabbed the tissue. I must've left it in my room or at home somewhere. But your glasses need cleaned. Damn, Rich. I'm surprised you could even  _ see _ out of these.

And that made Richie’s heart  _ twist. _ The fact that squeamish Eddie Kaspbrak—the same boy who wouldn’t even eat hotdogs because  _ They look fucking gross, Richie. Have you even seen how those are made?— _ would clean Richie’s filthy glasses with his  _ own shirt… _

Damn, Richie  _ loved _ him.

Once the glasses were sufficiently clean by Kaspbrak standards—that’s to say, spotless—he carefully set them back on Richie’s face, pushing them all the way up the bridge of his nose.

One they were in the proper position, the finer details of Eddie’s face swam into focus: the creases in his forehead, the freckles that dusted his cheekbones, even the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Richie smiled, probably looking more like a lovestruck fool than anything else. “Thanks, Eds. Now I can see your angry spaghetti face  _ much _ more clearly.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I hope it was worth it. Now the hem of my shirt’s all gross.”

Richie rolled his eyes right back, but more so to mock Eddie than to actually look annoyed. “Will you stop whining if I give you one of mine?”

Eddie pretended to consider it, even though Richie knew damn well that Eddiel  _ loved _ wearing his clothes.

He nodded. “As long as it’s a  _ clean _ shirt.”

Richie started to stand up to walk to his closet but Eddie wouldn’t get off of him.

“Uh… Eds, you need to let me up.”

Eddie shook his head. “Richie, you have two shirts on.”

Richie glanced down at his black shirt/purple flannel combo. “Eds, this one’s not  _ technically _ clean.”

Eddie shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s okay.”

“Eds. I’ve worn this since seven AM.”

Eddie shrugged again.

Richie sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine.”

Richie sat up, off of the pillows, and slid his purple flannel off. Eddie untucked his light blue polo from his khaki shorts and slid it off. Richie instinctively looked away as he blindly thrusted the shirt in his general direction, his face heating up.

Eddie quietly scoffed and Richie felt a hand cup his jaw before gently turning his head so their eyes could meet.

Eddie gave Richie a tender, reassuring smile. Richie’s shoulders relaxed when he remembered that he and Eddie were dating now, so he was  _ allowed _ to see him shirtless.

Before Eddie could take the flannel out of his hands, Richie unwadded it before putting it on Eddie himself. Eddie rolled his eyes with a smile but let Richie button the shirt for him. He decided to leave the top two undone, considering he was  _ very _ fond of Eddie’s collarbones. 

Once the button-up was on, Eddie let out a content sigh.

Richie smiled at that. The fact that Eddie was happy wearing Richie’s flannel, even though the back was probably damp with sweat, made him strangely happy.

Eddie curled closer to Richie, burying his face in his chest.

“Still tired?” Richie asked.

Eddie hummed in affirmation.

Richie started slowly dragging his fingers through Eddie’s curls, the way he knew Eddie liked. “Then go back to sleep, you'll need your energy for the all-nighter we’re gonna pull.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just made a happy noise at Richie’s hand in his hair, but Richie knew that Eddie was excited to stay up all night and not sleeping until the next morning. Because his mom always made him go to sleep at  _ eight PM, _ even though the boy was  _ sixteen. _

Richie was  _ really _ proud of Eddie. He was off of all of his fake meds, he ate whatever the fuck he wanted, and was dating a boy.

Richie was so  _ happy _ that Eddie chose  _ him. _ Eddie Kaspbrak—the bravest boy in Derry who told his terrible, strict mother to eat shit and tried to punch a child-eating clown  _ in the face— _ saw Richie Tozier—the Trashmouth with buck teeth, huge glasses, and chicken legs—and thought ‘I want that one.’

Before Richie could slip his headphones back on, Eddie turned his sleepy face up to look at him.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” he mumbled.

Richie blinked, stunned and confused. “I’m  _ sorry?" _

The response seemed to wake Eddie up a bit. “I’m proud of you, Rich.”

Richie just continued to stare.  _ “You? _ Proud of  _ me?” _

Eddie nodded, seeming confused. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“W… Why  _ would _ you?  _ Eddie. _ Look at how far you’ve come!”

Eddie  _ still _ looked confused. “Look at how far  _ you’ve _ come.”

Then Richie realized that his hand was still running through Eddie’s hair and his hand was resting on the small of his back. A couple of years ago, he wouldn’t have dared to even give Eddie a fucking  _ fist bump. _ He would have rather been eaten by Pennywise than been caught  _ dead _ touching Eddie in a  _ remotely _ intimate way in public.

Now, however, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to give one of his male friends a hug or hold Eddie’s hand under the table at lunch.

He probably didn’t think about that right away because, while Eddie changed  _ drastically— _ if Richie saw  _ this _ Eddie a few years ago, he wouldn’t have thought that that’s the same boy that took a handful of pills every hour, would never breathe a bad word in Sonia’s direction, and wouldn’t eat anything that could possibly contained nuts—Richie barely changed.

Sure, he cried a lot and was dating a boy, but he was still  _ Richie Tozier. _ He talked too loud, moved too fast, and collapsed to the ground in laughter last week when Ben fell for the “look down your shirt and spell attic” trick.

But, Richie supposed, Eddie was still  _ Eddie Kaspbrack. _ He argued with anyone about anything, wore polos every day, and screamed at Richie about germs when he would pretend to be ready to lick the railing of the staircase at school (just to fuck with Eddie and see his adorable, puffed-up cheeks.)

The two of them might’ve changed, but didn’t mean that they were different people. They were just better versions of themselves.

Eddie somehow seemed to read Richie’s mind, to a degree. “You’ve come far too, Richie. Don’t let my progress make you ashamed of yours. You can be proud of yourself while being proud of me too. Can you just... be proud of both of us?”

Richie  _ really _ wanted to say he wasn’t able, because he honestly didn’t think he had it in him. He had always had a hard time feeling proud of, or even remotely satisfied with, his accomplishments or personal growth. Feeling good about yourself didn’t just happen overnight.

But the earnest look Eddie was giving him had Richie give him a slightly different, but not dishonest, answer. “It might take a while... but I promise I'll try.”

Eddie smiled, all fond and open and  _ loving. _ “Okay. We can work on it. Just know that I’m proud of you and I love you.”

Richie genuinely smiled back, attempting to pull Eddie in closer.

When Eddie was comfortably lying on top of Richie with his face buried in the crook of Richie’s neck, he let out a relaxed sigh.

“Going back to sleep?” Richie asked.

Eddie hummed in affirmation, sending pleasant vibrations down Richie’s neck.

“Okay. If you wake up I probably won’t hear you, so you might have to nudge me.”

Eddie snorted. “‘If’ I wake up?”

“I wasn’t implying anything sinister, for fuck’s sake, Eds… I just meant that you might accidentally sleep through the night.”

“Then wake me up. I don’t want to sleep again after this until I see the fucking sun rise.”

Richie shrugged. “Alright, you’re the boss. But I have a right to bitch if you tear my head off for waking you up too soon.”

Eddie shrugged. “Fair enough. Now hush and listen to your music. I need another nap.”

Richie nodded and lifted one of Eddie’s hands up to his mouth. He kissed the back of it, the palm, and then each individual knuckle.

“I love you too,” Richie murmured. “And I’m very proud of…  _ us.” _

Eddie didn’t make any noises but Richie could feel him smile into his neck.

Richie went back to running his fingers through Eddie’s hair when he realized that he had stopped. He even kept up the movements when he heard Eddie’s breathing even out.

Then Richie slipped his headphones back over his ears and started playing his mix again, turning the volume down a little just in case it would wake Eddie back up too soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, yeah, you can follow [ Lock's IT blog on Tumblr ](http://ull-float-too.tumblr.com)
> 
> He's _way_ better at writing then I am, if you can catch him doing it.  
> ...
> 
> I'm sorry Lock, it was a joke, ily please don't be mad 💕


End file.
